


Clean

by Egnaro97



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety Attacks, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobic Language, M/M, MAY CAUSE TRIGGERS, Mysophobia, Phobias, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:16:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3584352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Egnaro97/pseuds/Egnaro97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's hard to breath, but that doesn't mean I'll die of suffocation." The anxiety, compulsions, and dread are an interfering part of being mysophobic, but Akashi never thought it be a problem until he met Kuroko. Mysophobic!Akashi</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Akashi Seijūrō

Everything in this world is dirty.

Door knobs…

Telephones…

Reports…

Public transportation…

The air breathed by other people…

I moved out at sixteen, despite my father’s insistence, to minimize the discomfort. There are unpleasant things everywhere, but I never thought there was a point in changing myself.

However…

It’s hard to breath. 

It’s hard to breath, but that doesn’t mean I’ll die from suffocation.

If I don’t want to touch something, I don’t have to.

In order to keep living, I can’t be stopped by anything.

I don’t want to be stopped. Others don’t expect me to be stopped. 

 

 

“Akashi-kun” He stopped his typing and looked up to his secretary who entered his office. “Here are this quarter’s financial reports.” He received the reports being passed to him with his white gloved hand. His eyes narrowed at his secretary’s hands. “You have a meeting at 11 with Fueguchi-san and then a board meeting with the other branch managers at 3.”

“Momoi.” The secretary blinked as she took notice where he was looking. “You don’t have to wear gloves.”

“But it makes you more comfortable, Akashi-kun.” A small smile graced her lips as she stared at Akashi. Her eyes... Momoi didn’t look at him with pitying or judgemental eyes, only understanding. He really was lucky to come across someone like her for the position.

“Thank you, Momoi.”

Momoi wearing gloves didn’t help in the grand scheme of things. Akashi could still see the trails of dirt where the person or people before her would have touched. His chest tight and constricting as he envisioned visible fingerprints and dirt all over the stapled pages. 

Still, while it wasn’t significant, his anxiety was slightly less knowing the person who gave him the report hadn’t been in direct contact. His thoughts wondering off in wonderment whether Momoi had been wearing gloves when she first came in contact with it or only just now to deliver it.

Momoi didn’t leave after handing him the report causing Akashi to look back up at the girl regarding him with a scrunched up face. 

“Was there something else?”

“It’s not relating to the business.” Akashi’s silence was his permission for her to continue. “Have you ever thought about seeing a doctor? Or a psychiatrist? A psychologist? Anyone to talk to really,” she trailed off.

“I don’t need any of those things. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I know a good listener.”

“I said I’m fine.” Akashi’s eyes sharpened which straightened Momoi’s back. 

Momoi bit her lip before recollecting herself. “Right. I should get back to work.”

Akashi returned to typing on his laptop, but couldn’t forget Momoi’s words. It was the first time anyone had even suggested he needed help. If anything, he was usually the person people came to if they had problems since he could get things done. Nothing expected less of an Akashi. His father made sure of that.

His family was a strict one. Ever since he was young, he was piled with enough work that would make grown men complain. His mother had been a glorious light as an escape to all that and even managed to make father lighten the load a bit. 

Then she died.

More lessons returned and more. They were even harsher after mother’s death. 

But as far as his “problem” went, it was never a problem. He didn’t consider it a problem, so he didn’t need help. Not that he would tell his father about it as the man would probably see it as a fault as an Akashi. The man thought every slight thing out of place a fault.

He remembered giving specific orders to the housekeepers by the time he was twelve. He had to make sure they were doing things in a certain way to guarantee cleanliness. 

He hadn’t even turned 14 when his strict orders were no longer reassurance. His father was often busy so it wasn’t hard to transition from giving the housekeepers strict orders to making them remain silent as he took upon their jobs (as concerned to him). His room became forbidden area where only he was allowed and even cooked his own meals, not trusting what was being done to the food. He somehow managed to keep up with his studies so his father never suspected anything. It was exhausting on his part, though.

At sixteen, Akashi defied his father for the first time. 

Akashi wanted to move out. He needed a space all to himself. There were too many people in the current house. His father had been livid. However, Akashi promised he would keep up with his studies and wouldn’t disappoint the family. His father couldn’t trust him on words alone, however, after some more chatting he had finally agreed to let his son live alone as an experience to become independent.

It was just an apartment, something Akashi requested since a house would be too much to maintain by himself, but it was his. His space. A place where no one else could enter. A place others couldn’t contaminate.

Akashi glanced down at his gloves. They didn’t stick out since he always dressed formally. 

The gloves…were the only thing that helped him get through everyday outside.

 

 

Akashi rubbed his hands with alcohol. He’d been washing them for the past 10 minutes. His hands were dry and cut. There were even some pink splotches from where his skin was healing from where it had been previously peeled.

It didn’t matter how much he tried to clean his hands; they were still dirty. Dirtydirtydirty!

He sat at his table where his shogi board was already out when he thought he was finally clean. He played with himself for the next hour to further attempt to calm himself down. It was also an enjoyable past time.

Akashi, 24, and he spent his free time alone.


	2. Kuroko Tetsuya

Shopping.

It was one of Akashi’s least favorite activities. More so when I involved food. It wasn’t the type of shopping he could postpone or ignore for too long. As much as he dreaded his trip to the store, there were only two other alternatives. He could starve himself or eat out. He’s done it before. It didn’t even affect him that much since he had been too anxious about germs to feel the effects of starvation.

It was different from an eating disorder. There were times Akashi could be so anxious that his appetite would be gone for days at a time.

Akashi already knew the second alternative wasn’t an option. He hadn’t eaten in a restaurant since he was thirteen. It wasn’t a particularly fond memory either. 

He had been out with his father at a well-known, high-end restaurant. It had been terrible just looking at the food the waitress had brought him. Unlike their housekeepers who he had given instructions to, even to cleaning and sanitizing methods, he knew nothing about the staff, the process, or the food. It was supposed to be top tier food, but Akashi just wanted to push the meal away. His father was suspicious, though. He couldn’t break down in front of his father.

Never in front of his father.

Akashi, against all his instincts, forced the food down his throat in a manner that he hoped looked natural. His eating wasn’t commenting on, so he could only hope so. The first thing he did upon returning home was enter his private bathroom, connected to his room, and lock the door before purging the undigested food into the toilet.

He could still recall the large chunks of food from not chewing properly. The echoing words of ‘disgusting’ and ‘dirty’ in his poor state, as he tried to rub himself clean. He could even vividly remember scratching his stomach in a near vicious manner as if it would rid the lingering food in his stomach. Finally gaining some sense that he shouldn’t claw his stomach open, he shoved his hand down his throat to reflexively throw up.

It was around that time that he started making all his meals. 

Akashi placed a hand on his throat in remembrance. Yes, the less he thought about that the better off he was. 

 

 

Akashi walked into the supermarket, thankful for the automatic doors. He clenched his fists a few times before unrolling his fingers enough and extending his hand to the stack of baskets. It didn’t matter ifs such a simple thing was something he had to do often enough. He couldn’t get used to it. If he tried to carry all the food, he would drop it. Not to mention his image wouldn’t be the best if they saw someone struggle carrying their food around the store. 

He closed his eyes as he thought of all the customers that came in everyday and how often (or lack thereof) the baskets were cleaned. It wasn’t a motivating realization. Slowly, he picked up the basket. It would be fine. He was wearing his gloves. It was the only thought that gave him some sense of security. There was no direct contact, but it didn’t change the fact that the basket was filthy.

He tried to shop as fast as he could. His silent breathing taking larger breaths of air whenever he was able to take another item off the shelf. 

The food itself didn’t bother Akashi. It was the packaging which could have been touched by who knows how many people.

Mysophobia was selective like that. Some things could bother someone and yet other things which logically should be a problem too wouldn’t be thought twice about. Still, Akashi probably had more worries than the average mysophobic person.

He was headed to the front to pay for his purchases when he tripped. He didn’t know what he tripped over at first. He looked back to see a man who had been squatting to get a better look at the bottom shelf.

The blunet twisted his body to face Akashi. He reached down to help Akashi pick up his things when Akashi subtly flinched. The other man took notice and backed off. Akashi was confused why the man suddenly stopped his motion to help but he wasn’t going to complain.

The man’s eyes looked towards Akashi’s gloved hands as he watched him pick up his things. He wasn’t going to apologize. There wasn’t a reason for him to apologize. The red man had tripped over him on his own accord. There was a bit of red on them. He picked up the item off the shelf he wanted before standing. “Mysophobic, right? You should get that treated. The longer you wait the harder it is to cure. Or so I’ve heard.”

Akashi watched the man walk off as he remained stiff still. How did he know? Who was he to judge him? Not to mention he had already been dealing with it for at least a good 12 years now. What kind of encouragement did that give him? “How did you know?” Akashi asked when the man was right behind him, before he got too far.

“You flinched when I went to aid you and you’ve got some blood on your gloves. Presumably from washing your hands so much.” Not only was he observant but he was good at piecing things together. Aomine-kun always told him he should have gone into criminology with him instead of becoming a kindergarten teacher.

“And who are you to make such judgements on me.” Akashi eyes pierced into blue eyes. He watched as the man’s eyelids lowered. It was actually a little frustrating. He couldn’t get a good read on him.

“Kuroko Tetsuya. You don’t have to listen to me if you don’t want.”

And then the man was gone and Akashi was still kneeling on the filthy ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's what I originally wanted to add to the first chapter. Chapters should be longer from now on. :D


	3. On my Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since so many people have been asking, I've decided to clear things up. This story is loosely inspired by "Ten Count" and you may have seen some similarities, particularly the opening, being mysophobic and the gloves. Working in a company is just coincidental given Akashi's family. But although there are some similarities, the stories will be vastly different. (The intro isn't that odd since anyone who deals with some kind of anxiety has similar thoughts. I know I tell myself that all the time "It's hard to breath but I won't suffocate". And there's actually more to Kuroko and Akashi's first meeting then what was shown.) I finally caught up to the manga (I had only read the first three chapters) and I'm currently p*ssed at Kurose. If it continues like that I may actually drop it.
> 
> …Well, for those of you comparing, I guess you'll just find out the differences on your own.

The first thing Akashi did when he arrived at work was check his inbox for any messages, updates, replies, and such. As expected, Momoi knocked on his door and entered half an hour later. It had become a routine.

"Good morning, Akashi-kun."

"What do you have for me today?" He noticed that she was still wearing the gloves.

Momoi passed a stack of papers, clipped together. "This is the proposal Hiroshi-san hinted at a few months ago. It's been completed in detail. I assume you'll criticize it in full, but I've already read over it and made note of some specific details and wording you'll want to look into." Momoi handed a few pages of hand written notes. "I've establish a meeting between the two of you for next week. If that is an inconvenient or simply need more time, be sure to notify me and I'll make arrangements to get together at another date."

Akashi's eyes skimmed the summary as Momoi continued the explanation. It was very thorough.

"Also Satomi-san has fallen ill so your meeting for today has been cancelled. Also, the Jinshori Company has gone under new management so it is advisable to contact them."

She was about to leave when Akashi called her name. She looked back but he remained silent. She waited for him to speak. "Efficient as always."

Momoi smiled in accomplishment. "It's what I do."

Akashi stared as the door closed. He had been told that he should receive help twice in a week. He was about to ask Momoi if he should or how he should go about it, but decided against it.

He was going to leave the subject alone, but he found himself, near the end of his shift, searching the internet for what people did in this situation. Of course, most people would go to a clinic, but Akashi didn't even know where one was. Did you need a referral? What did you say to someone? How do you prove something that wasn't shown physically?

But wasn't going a sign of weakness? What if word got out? What if his father found out? Akashi's can't have weaknesses. If anything, that is what he learnt from his father.

Was this a weakness? Akashi didn't particularly enjoy it but it was normal. He's lived with it for 12 years. No. Perhaps longer. When had it even started? Had it always been that way? Maybe it was normal and the other two were just overreacting. He was fine. He was Akashi. He didn't need help.

The knock on his door was unexpected.

"Mukkun's sister was just here to drop off sweets. She said he asked her too. It seems as if he finally opened a bakery." Akashi looked at the box in Momoi's hands. "She said 'this box is for Akachin, whoever that is'."

Akashi knew Murasakibara wanted to open his own bake shop. As his friend, he even donated him the money so he could open one. He just never expected to be given a box of sweets. The box was fine, but he didn't dare open it.

How pathetic was he? He couldn't even look at his friend's food—and he knew the person.

"Thanks."

She placed the box on the chair looking uncertain by Akashi's attitude.

She was about to ask if he was okay, but stopped herself. He knew his own situation and she didn't want to push. "I'll see you Tuesday, Akashi-kun."

.

Akashi walked past a clinic that he had searched online. Surprisingly, there had been one but a few blocks away. He stared at the place before walking away. He didn't need help. He walked around the block, bringing himself back to the entrance. Maybe just a peek inside to ask about how clienteles work.

He was just about to the door when someone came out. It had nothing to do with him, but Akashi stopped. He walked away again.

This happened five times, but not once did Akashi enter.

Akashi walked around the corner when a voice said, "Is there a reason why you are walking in circles?"

Akashi stopped but kept his composure. He was surprised when he saw the blue hair man from before. Kuroko Tetsuya, his memory supplied. "Who says I've been walking in circles?" Akashi looked down at him with a challenging gaze.

Kuroko didn't seem to back down as he kept staring with that blank stare of his. "I've watched you pass here five times, Akashi-kun. Don't tell me you're lost."

"I think the better question would be why were you watching me? You know stalking can be reported to the police."

"Akashi-kun flatters himself too much. Someone was supposed to pick me up, so I was waiting, but it seems our plans have changed." Kuroko looked slightly disappointed.

Akashi looked at the institution behind him. "And I'm to believe you're a student?"

"No." Kuroko blinked as if Akashi said something stupid. "I'm a teacher." Akashi looked over Kuroko skeptically. He certainly wasn't dressed for the role. It was then that he noticed it was exclusively a kindergarten school. Now his attire made more sense but Akashi wanted far away. Kids carried a lot of germs, touching whatever they could get their hands on.

He was about to leave when he thought of something. "Here." Akashi passed the box of treats to Kuroko who looked confused. It wasn't like Murasakibara and Kuroko knew each other so he didn't have to openly disappoint the giant. If Murasakibara ever found out he was sure to whine.

"Why are you giving me this?" Kuroko wanted to open the box to see what was inside bus his hands were full.

"I don't need it so you can have it." Akashi walked away wanting away from the clinic, the school and Kuroko, when Kuroko spoke back.

"I want to thank you for this." Akashi prided himself on his observant eyes. Something about Kuroko suddenly seemed different, but he couldn't tell what. It was the first person that he couldn't read like an open book.

"There's no need."

"But I want to." Kuroko's voice was a little quieter which only added to Akashi's curiosity. There was definitely something he was missing.


	4. Better Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Homophobic language, anxiety attack/breakdown, and bullying.

Why did he agree to this?

Akashi stared at the blue eye man waiting for a response.

“I don’t know.”

“You invited me and you don’t know where we’re going.” Akashi stated at Kuroko. Unbelievable. He knew he should have just told him no and spent the day at home.

Kuroko scratched his cheek with a finger. “Where are you comfortable going?” Kuroko averted his gaze to the ground. “I tried to think of something to do, because I was happy to spend time with Akashi-kun, but I realized that you’re uncomfortable with so many public spaces that I didn’t know what to do. That’s why I wanted to ask Akashi-kun what he is comfortable doing.”

Somehow, Akashi was reminded of a dog—an obedient dog. One that would sit at your feet and wait for you.

“I’m not incapable.”

Kuroko looked to Akashi then looked away. “I didn’t say that.”

A silence passed between them as neither made suggestion to an activity. 

Akashi’s eyelids lowered as he took out his personal phone and held a number for speed dial. He spoke of his locations telling the person on the other side to pick him up. He hung up promptly and put the phone back in his pocket. He was both confused and aggravated as he saw Kuroko walking. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Kuroko stopped in his track and turned back around. “You’re going home aren’t you?”

“Not exactly. You’re coming with me. You told me to choose. Are you backing out?”

He watched Kuroko smile as he returned to his side, waiting for Akashi’s driver.

The silence continued until Akashi’s driver pulled to the curb. The driver exited the car, dressed formally. “Akashi-sama,” he greeted. He acknowledge Kuroko’s presence and nodded in greeting. He walked around to their side and opened the door. As per manners, Kuroko entered first. Then Akashi and the driver walked around to the other side and the driver repeated his actions with his young master. 

It wasn’t until the car moved, that Kuroko asked the obvious question. “Where are we going?”

Akashi only used his father’s hired driver for two things. One when visiting his father or pertaining events involving him. Second, to visit their family’s stables. “Do you like horses?”

It wasn’t the reply Kuroko expected. 

 

 

Kuroko was taken in by the large open field and the stable. They weren’t in the city anymore. He hadn’t expected this when he asked where Akashi wanted to go. He looked to his left where he saw Akashi petting a white horse with a fond smile. A sight which warmed him, but made him feel so much smaller and distant. 

“This is Yukimaru. I’ll be riding him. You can ride Hiroki.” Kuroko looked at the brown horse.

“I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

“You will now.”

It had been a while since Akashi had last come out for a ride. Yukimaru leaned into Akashi’s touch. He was old and didn’t want the day he died to come. Yukimaru was the horse that Akashi had always ridden. Both riding and Yukimaru were calming. Logically, he knew there were germs everywhere, even here, but his instincts never seemed to react. It was a relief.

“Akashi-kun looks happy.” Kuroko gently smiled towards Akashi.

“I don’t know if I like the way you said that.”

Akashi saddled Yukimaru. Then he saddled Hiroki for Kuroko because he was a helpless case. He managed preparing the riding gear both quickly and efficiently. It was something he had done hundreds of times by now. 

He got on Yukimaru’s back and began to ride forward when he heard a loud thump. He pulled the reigns, signaling Yukimaru to stop and he looked back. Kuroko was sprawled on the ground. Kuroko was hopeless, wasn’t he?

“Kuroko.”

“I can get on,” Kuroko insisted. He raised his foot and tried to swing his other leg over when he fell backwards on the ground once more.

Akashi looked at Kuroko with an expression that read ‘you can’t’. 

“Grab the bucket over there and flip it over. The added height should help you.” Kuroko followed Akashi’s orders but didn’t help the kindergarten teacher in the least. Only this time, the echoes of the fallen pail accompanied Kuroko. Akashi raised an eyebrow. He got off his white horse to help Kuroko on Hiroki. Once on, Kuroko held onto Hiroki tightly. He was uncomfortable, unused to being on a horse, but enjoyed sitting higher up.

Akashi led the two of them slowly around. After a while, Akashi picked up the pace of a slow run and Hiroki followed at their pace.

Akashi got off when they made it back to the stable. See. He didn’t need to see a psychiatrist. He just needed a good ride to calm him down.

He turned around to help Kuroko off only to notice that Hiroki was there but Kuroko was on the ground in the distant. He couldn’t help but let out a small laughter. He took care of the two horses before Kuroko who decided the best course of action was to remain on the ground.

“I’m fine,” said Kuroko when Akashi’s form shadowed his eyes from the sun.

“That’s why you’ve been on the ground for the past five minutes.”

“It’s comfortable.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Akashi extended his hand for Kuroko to grab.

Kuroko’s eyes widen. “But your…”

Akashi glared knowing Kuroko was hinting at his Mysophobia. “I’m wearing gloves.” There was no direct contact. He would be fine. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had to shake hands or have contact with other people or things before. Not to mention he was in a particularly good mood right now because he was able to ride Yukimaru. What did Kuroko think being mysophobic meant?

Kuroko hesitantly took hold of Akashi’s hand and he pulled the blunet up. “Sorry. I don’t know much about mysophobia.”

The comment confused Akashi and he didn’t like not understanding. Hadn’t Kuroko been able to tell his condition from one glance?

Akashi was going to question him when he saw Kuroko’s calm, relaxed face smiling. It was different that his other smile. He seemed so relax. So free.

“I was hoping to finally let go,” admitted Kuroko. The words made no sense to Akashi. What was he talking about? “But it seems I can’t. I like you. I like you romantically.”

Akashi felt his nerves tingle as he froze. His eyes wide as he faced Kuroko. The words were incomprehensible as they replayed in his mind repetitively.

Kuroko frowned. 

Akashi couldn’t think straight. Everything was a blur. 

His violent tears…

His full body, erratic trembling…

His loud, quaky, quickening breaths…

None of it registered. The only words that seemed to register with Akashi were ‘dirty’, ‘disgusting’, ‘improper’, ‘filth’, ‘dirtydirtydirty’!

Kuroko stepped towards Akashi saying something. Akashi couldn’t hear. Did it even matter what he was saying. Akashi slapped Kuroko’s hand away in a panic before holding his wrist backing away from Kuroko. Akashi stopped. Kuroko didn’t move forward unsure of what to do. Akashi focused on the gloved hand he just slapped Kuroko. It was dirty. It was dirty. It was dirty! It was dirty! 

He ripped his glove off and threw it on the ground before stomping irrationally on it in a faster and faster tempo.

“Akashi-kun!”

Kuroko’s words finally seemed to cut through to Akashi as he halted and looked to Kuroko. His eyes seemed hollower and less noticeable than before. 

The echoing voices and flashing thought repeated in Akashi’s head and he covered his ears with the palm of his hands. “You’re a dirty faggot! You’re dirty…you’re dirty! You poof stay away from me.” Akashi’s once fast breathing was now slow, almost gasping for air. 

Kuroko shook. His eyes wide and tears immediately falling down his face. Without second thought he ran. 

“You’re dirty.”

 

 

The first time Kuroko realized he was gay was in middle school. He had been thirteen when he fell for Ogiwara Shigehiro.

“I like you, Ogiwara.”

“I like you too. But ah…” Ogiwara rubbed the back of his head. “Did we really need to meet here for you to tell me that?”

“I don’t think you understand.”

“Eh.”

“I want to go out with Ogiwara-kun.”

Ogiwara looked at his friend’s blushing face. His mental clogs turning, finally understanding why Kuroko wanted to talk to him in private. Ogiwara blushed. This was uncomfortable. “Sorry, Kuroko. I don’t think of you that way.”

“I thought so, but I decide it better to ask anyway. After all, if I don’t ask then there’s no chance at all.” Kuroko smiled. Ogiwara wondered if Kuroko was really as happy as he expressed. Ogiwara, himself, had been rejected by the only two crushes he ever had. He had experience and it sucked.

“We cool then.”

“Is Ogiwara still my friend?”

“Of course.”

“Then all is good.”

Kuroko hadn’t known someone was listening. Kuroko never thought his sexuality should be a secret but he wasn’t going to announce it to everyone, but that was just the kind of person he was. Did anyone really flaunt their sexuality around?

By the end of the week, rumours were throughout the school that Kuroko was gay. There were plenty of people who didn’t know him, so didn’t care about the gossip. There were other’s that just didn’t care. But there were some that cared and no one else seemed to stop the bullying that Kuroko endured. 

They wrote slurs on his desks for him when he arrived to school. 

They stole his things and wrote over it too.

His gym clothes ripped and cut.

One day, someone thought it funny to add laxatives to his lunch.

Another day there were needles in his indoor shoes.

He thought he could be strong but it hurt.

 

 

Dai-chan. Dai-chan!

“Ow! What was that for, Satsuki?”

“How can you be up here when Tetsu-kun is being bullied?” She had heard the rumours of him being gay and she had comforted him (well tried to as he wouldn’t allow her to). She had been upset because she liked him, but she wanted him happy. She had only recently found out he was being bullied. If she hadn’t caught him being bullied, he probably would have continued to hide it from her.

“Tetsu’s being bullied?” Aomine shot up from his lax position. 

Momoi couldn’t even answer as Aomine had already run off. His normally cheery grin turned into urgent concern.

 

 

An upper year student punched Kuroko, sending him back into the school wall. The boy threw another punch which was caught. “What do you think you’re doing?” The student gulped upon seeing an angry Aomine. Despite being younger, Aomine was taller and had a better physique. 

“That’s my line.” He looked over to Kuroko who held his hand to his bruised cheek. He obviously wasn’t fine.

“You shouldn’t help that faggot.”

“Faggot?”

The older student smirked. “Haven’t you heard? He’s a faggot. There’s nothing wrong punishing him.”

“Eh?” Aomine looked back at Tetsu. This was news to him. “I like boobs. I don’t understand why others wouldn’t so I can’t say I understand. However, he is my friend and I won’t let you lay a hand on him.” Aomine punched the guy in the face, knocking him out.

Aomine and Momoi stood by Kuroko’s side throughout the rest of middle school, not that they didn’t before. They were more protective though from any dirty looks that came Kuroko’s way. If they tried to do anything more, they had Aomine to deal with even when Kuroko insisted that Aomine shouldn’t get into fights.

Kuroko was happy to have such good friends, but his personality receded the more time passed. He became more invisible, added to his already low presence. His smiles smaller and less frequent. He became more hollow like. Harder to read.

He separated from his friends when high school came around. No one no longer knew him as the ‘gay guy’ but hardly anyone knew him. He was simply a ghost.

 

 

“I’m going to marry him when I’m older.” He nodded his head as if he was certain of this statement.

His mother didn’t want to crush her son by saying two boys couldn’t marry each other. 

She just smiled and rubbed his head in kind familiarity. “I’m sure you will, Seijūrō.”

When he told his father later that night, he didn’t understand why his father got so angry. Love was a good thing, right?

 

 

“You’re disgusting.”

Akashi stood frozen. Twelve years old and the boy before him rejected him. Everyone loved him, didn’t they? 

He wanted someone to comfort him. He couldn’t tell his father and mother was now dead. There was nowhere to go.

Akashi scratched himself involuntarily as he narrowed his eyes on the boy he confessed to. His feelings now replaced with a heavy feeling.

“It was a joke. You tell anyone and there will be consequences.”

The boy shivered in fear as he faced Akashi. Something was different.

The boy never said a word to anyone.

 

 

“It would be better if I could forget.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I mention that I don't have the slightest care for relationships in real life? I'm sorry. The date scenes will improve (hopefully) as the story goes on.
> 
> Also, if the writing in this chapter sucks tell me and I'll rewrite/edit it. I kind of wrote it in my closet with my thoughts both scattered and unfocused.

**Author's Note:**

> As my warnings state this is explicit (way down the road), may cause triggers as it deals with a phobia, and it's slow build as there is a plot beside the romance (though they do intertwine). 
> 
> Chapter one and two were originally intended to be combined but I thought I should separate them as this alone gives a basic idea of Akashi.
> 
> If there are any particular warnings you would like to see before reading a chapter I'll put a warning in a note at the top if it deals with that topic in the chapter, so feel free to tell me. Don't worry. I don't judge. I have my own triggers too which I'll probably end up writing anyhow.


End file.
